Liberation
by reckless-Ravenclaw
Summary: Life at number 4, Privet Drive is unbearable for Harry Potter after the arrival of Dobby in his second year. Uncle Vernon is beyond upset over his missed opportunity with the Mason's, and doesn't hesitate to punish Harry... in drastic ways.
1. Chapter 1

The sun cascaded through the open window of the smallest bedroom in number 4, Privet Drive. The golden flecks illuminated the bleak wallpaper and dull bedspread, though it did nothing to lift the spirits of the boy who slept there. Harry Potter stifled a yawn, opened his eyes, and immediately wished he hadn't. Life had reached an all time low, and he wished more than anything that he could return to his wistful dreams, even if they were filled with horrifying images of two-faced teachers or blinding flashes of green light.

Harry thought of Hogwarts, and how he longed to wake up in his four poster in Gryffindor tower, even with the frightening prospect of Voldemort stealing the stone. His thoughts were interrupted when his stomach grumbled hungrily. Three days ago, Dobby the house elf had paid harry a visit and had upset some very important guests that Uncle Vernon had had over for dinner. Harry had never seen his uncle so angry before.

When the guests had run out of the house at top speed, squealing with fright, Uncle Vernon lost his temper. He had turned to Harry, his face going from deep red to an unpleasant purple colour, his vein pulsating. Like the crack of a whip, Vernon's pudgy knuckles collided with Harry's bony jaw. This had caught Harry by surprise .He had been caught off guard. He had been expecting punishment - a week locked in his bedroom, without meals, perhaps - but this?

Harry was still recovering from the shock when Vernon delivered his second blow, to Harry's eye. Harry came to his senses, then, and dodged a third blow. He ducked under Vernon's outstretched arm and ran up the stairs at top speed. it wasn't that he was afraid of his uncle, but Harry didn't think it was wise to try and defend himself when his uncle was in such a temper. He was, after all, about the size of a small walrus, while Harry was short and thin for his age, and he wasn't allowed to use magic.

Harry could hear his uncle making his way up the stairs, but by that time, he had calmed down somewhat and with a scraping noise, Harry's door was locked.

The following day, Uncle Vernon had fit bars over Harry's window. Harry thought halfheartedly of breaking them, using magic, before discarding the idea. He would surely be expelled from Hogwarts, and then where would he be? In any case, his bedroom was on the second floor, it's not like he could climb down. His blankets and muggle clothes were all second hand and very tattered; they would surely rip if he tied them together in the hopes of climbing out the window. Even if he did manage to climb down, where would he go? Ron's? Hermione's? There was no way to get there, the thought of Uncle Vernon giving money was laughable and couldn't pay with wizard money.

To make things worse, Harry was now sporting a brilliant black eye and a bruise on his jaw. Harry was busy wallowing in self-pity when he he a tapping of glass. Hedwig was trying, unsuccessfully, to get through the bars in the window. Harry had released her a few days into the holiday, telling her to go to Ron's house. Her screeching had irritated the already hot-tempered Vernon, and after he threatened to break her neck, Harry thought it best to let her go, even though she was his only link to the magical world.

It was then that Harry noticed a note tied tied to her leg. He reached through the bars, fumbling to untie the letter. This seemed to cause the snowy owl considerable distress and, to Harry's horror, she let out an ear-piercing screech. He snatched the letter and shooed Hedwig away, before banging the window shut noisily. Hedwig hooted indignantly, but flew away nonetheless.

However, their interaction did not go unnoticed by Uncle Vernon. "Boy!" he bellowed, "what is the meaning of all of this ruckus". Now he was in trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry only had time to shove the letter unceremoniously under his pillow before his uncle unlatched the bolts and burst into his room. The sight gave him the feeling of a bull, about to charge. "What...was...that...bloody...bird...doing...at...your...window." He paused between each word, as if trying and failing to control his towering temper. Harry thought quick and decided the best way to answer was to act dumb. "What bird?", he asked as politely as possible. Wrong move. His uncle grabbed him by the hair and threw him roughly against the wall. Harry stumbled backward and the back of his head collided painfully with the corner of his shelf. Harry grimaced. "Don't you dare lie to me! We will not tolerate you contacting your freaky friends. Your abnormality is enough to put up with! While you are under my roof, you follow my rules." he screamed, and Harry vaguely wondered what the neighbors would think of his rantings. Perhaps they would call the police. This was child abuse, after all. "Don't expect any meals until you have learnt your lesson" he added menacingly.

Harry sat down on his bed. He felt oddly light-headed. He retrieved the letter from under his pillow. It was from Ron. He opened it numbly and read:

 _Hey mate_

 _Hope the muggles are treating you okay. We're planning to pick you up tomorrow in the flying car. It'll just be me, Fred and George but we need to hurry so that we aren't caught. Mom'll kill us if she finds out. Just make sure your trunk is packed and we'll meet you at your window._

 _From Ron_

Harry's spirits soared. Tomorrow, he would be where he belonged, with Ron. He had become closer to Ron and Hermione in one year than he had ever been with his relatives, who he had lived with for almost his whole life. There was just one problem: His trunk, carrying all of his school things, had been locked in the cupboard under the stairs the minute he had walked in the house. He would have to sneak downstairs somehow to retrieve it.

This was an issue, since he couldn't even get out of his room. The door had been locked from the outside. Harry had never learnt how to pick a lock, but it seemed a good a time as any to learn. It was tedious work, trying to unlock the door with a bobby pin, but his efforts were not fruitless. The golden sun had been replaced by black velvet when Harry heard the satisfying click that meant the door was unlocked. He listened intently for any indication that the other occupants of the house were awake, but the only sound that greeted him was the relentless snoring of Dudley.

He eased open the door and made his way soundlessly down the stairs. He reached the cupboard and began picking the lock. It was considerably easier to unlock and within five minutes he was inside. He grabbed the sides of the trunk and awkwardly lifted it up. It was very heavy and he could not get a proper grasp. He shimmied the trunk so that he was supporting it from underneath. It was very heavy, but he was determined to get it to his room.

He made his way up the stairs, careful to remain silent. Yet the weight was bearing down on him and when he reached the top step, he lost his balance and stumbled forward, dropping the trunk. He made a wild grab for it, but it was too late. With an ear-splitting _crash,_ the trunk landed on his foot. He let out a yelp of pain before he could stop himself. The trunk burst open, littering the floor with his textbooks,his wand and parchment. It was too much to hope that his aunt and uncle never heard him. He hurriedly shoved his trunk out of sight under the loose floorboard. He hurried back, gathering his textbooks and his wand, and turned to race back to his room. He could't. His path was blocked by Uncle Vernon.


End file.
